I was out last night with my boy Dan M. This nigga so plain, he makes me look like a baller. BALLER. He was kicking sour game to this rotten apple indian girl named Sara. She was beat like eggs over freynch toast. FREYNCH IS BALLER. Dan M. is not.

Of course she liked me more. She wanted to experience my human vision filling her gape. Like this one girl I fucked in Pittsburgh who told me I had the sweetest smelling, most viscous load she'd ever rubbed into her face. She was jewish, and the thing about jewesses (its okay I'm tribal) is they love my sweet young cock. I used to have penis envy. I was envious of my penis. It gets to pop out, pop in and let loose. Such a sweet, simple existence. I'm reminded of a T.S. Eliot quote. "Stroke with your non-dominant hand." Non-dominant motion has a certain arythmia which enables numerous dick-quiverish delights. Delightfoo.